


Along For The Ride

by Padfoots_Pawprint



Series: SoMa Week 2017 [2]
Category: Soul Eater
Genre: F/M, Family, Family Reunion, lol, when they almost meet the in-laws
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2018-10-20 19:54:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10669662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Padfoots_Pawprint/pseuds/Padfoots_Pawprint
Summary: Two wildly different families in the same house? Nothing good can come of this, right?





	1. Family

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater

If Maka had to describe it in one word, it would be lavish. She’d always known Soul was well off. Despite his estranged parentage the lump sum deposited into his account in their name made it clear that neither parent was keen on having their son starving while he trained in Death City (whether that was his brother’s doing was still up in the air). To an extent, they were invested in his wellbeing, and this was something beyond wellbeing.

“It’s…” she began slowly, unsure if Soul would appreciate what she had to say.

“Extra? Over the top?”

“I was going to say big,” she said. Big was certainly another would that would be comparable. The Evans’ summer home was like any other home, but on a much grander scale. It was larger, with pale, white walls and large glass windows. It sat perfectly juxtaposed by the greenery and the hint of deep blue water just past the trees.

“Whatever.”

“Come on,” she said, taking his hand and pulling her suitcase towards the glass door at the end of the trail. “Let’s go see them. They were kind enough to invite us here.”

“You call it a kindness,” Soul sniffed, hefting up his own bag and scowling as they moved closer. “They didn’t just invite us, you know?”

That seems to strike a stronger cord in his meister and she couldn’t help the grimace that overtook her face as they both looked behind them to see Spirit Albarn and his ex-wife standing at an uncomfortable distance from one another. Both of them had their respective suitcases, and Maka couldn’t help but notice how they matched in colour. Clearly, her mother had not thought to buy another one that would be distinctly separate from that of Spirit.

“Let’s just go,” she said, her grip tightening. “I’ve never spoken to your parents face-to-face. It’ll be interesting.”

“Call it what you want,” he said. “Just prepare yourself.”

“I’m ready,” she affirmed and as they got onto the front steps, she knocked. Maka was nervous, and she knew Soul could feel it too. She heard footsteps and watched with baited breath as the door opened to reveal a familiar face. Maka grinned up, letting go of her partner’s hand and allowing herself to be enveloped in a hug by Wesley Evans.

“Maka, I’m glad you could make it,” he said, smiling into her hair and squeezing her affectionately. “Particularly glad to have you here with Soul. It felt like he was never coming home.”

“That would’ve been fine with me,” said Soul, “but here we are.”

Wes released Maka to give Soul a hug as well. It had been a little over three years since they’d seen Wes, and almost twice that since they had spoken to his parents until they’d called to invite both Soul and Maka to their beach house for a week. Despite Soul’s reluctance, Maka had happily accepted, hesitating only when they mentioned inviting her parents as well.

She’d never expected, however, that both her parents would show up.

“And you must be Maka’s parents. Mr. Albarn.” Wes shook Spirit’s hand before moving to Maka’s mother. “And you must be Ms. Sato?”

“That’d be me, yes,” she said and shook Wes’ hand. “Wesley, I presume.”

He nodded. “Soul’s one and only older brother. Let’s all go inside and we can talk more. I know it’s a lovely day, but I’d prefer you all put your stuff down and get comfortable. My parents will be waiting.”

Wes led them through to the door to the wide, open expanse of the beach house. Everything was clean and pristine, with a few intricate art pieces adoring the walls.

“It’s so different than you room, Soul,” Maka teased lightly, trying to diffuse the tension building in her shoulders. “Are you sure they’re your parents?”

“I’ve checked, and they are,” he said. He had more to say, it seemed, but Wes cut in with a voice smoother than silk.

“You can put your things down in the rooms on the second floor. Soul, you know where you’ll be staying, and I can show Maka’s parents to their rooms. We will meet at the base of the stairs once you’ve all settled in.

Soul nodded, and made a move for the stairs with Maka at his side, only for the voice of Spirit to stop them in their tracks. “What about Maka’s room?” She turned to see her father’s face reflecting how much he was dreading the answer that was no doubt to come.

Wes seemed to pick it up, and smiled apologetically as Maka said, “Soul and I are sharing a room, Papa.”

“But Maka-“

“Soul and I share an apartment. Sharing a room isn’t that strange, Papa, you know that.”

“But-“

“Your father is right, Maka.” She froze and glanced over at her mother. Spirit did the same in near synchronized surprise. “You’re not married yet,” her mother continued calmly, her face devoid of any emotion. “I’m sure me and your father would prefer for you to wait until after you’ve been married to share a bed.”

Maka would have laughed at her father’s gaping expression if she wasn’t doing the same. Her flush was bright and fierce. The hand holding her suitcase handle tightened sharply, the ring on her finger clacking against the plastic. “Mama,” she began, but her mother cut her off firmly.

“No, Maka. You and Soul will not be sharing a bed.”

“If I might, Ms. Sato,” said Wes, “my brother last roomed here when we were quite young. He was about twelve at the time, and we shared a room together. My parents haven’t gotten rid of the bunkbed we used to share so perhaps Soul and Maka could share that room and still have their own beds. Would that be alright?” That seemed to appease her parents, and when Wes led them up the stairs, he placed a sympathetic hand on her shoulder before disappearing into the upper level. Maka buried her face in her hands once they disappeared.

“Your brother didn’t have to do that.”

“Find us a new room to make your parents feel better?”

“Try to make my parents happy,” she said. Soul began to climb the stairs again and tugged Maka’s hands away from her face to prompt her to follow. “He shouldn’t have to do that. If they have a problem, they can deal with me.”

“What happened to not wanting to cause trouble?”

“This is different,” she said, “and I can’t believe she said that I had wait till I was married. _She_ didn’t. And besides, we’re nothing like them. We’re not trying to jump each other’s bones every chance we get.”

“Don’t stress,” soothed Soul as they reached the second floor. “Parents intervene all the time. It’s their thing.”

“Since when did you get so calm?”

“We’re partners remember?” he said, pulling their interlocked fingers up and kissing the back of her hand. “I’m supposed to balance you out.”

“Ridiculous,” she said, pressing her lips to his cheek affectionately. “Don’t know why I like you.”

“’Cause my parents have a beach house that you’ve been dying to see?”

“I guess,” Maka said cheerily. “Now let’s see this room. I hope there’s some embarrassing posters in it.”

Her mood felt improved already, and as she and Soul walked into his old bedroom, she was pleased to see that there were in fact a multitude of posters littering the wall. Drawing her suitcase up against the closet door and leaving it there, she plopped on to his piano bedspread with a laugh. “This one has got to be yours.”

“Well, yeah. Wes got the top bunk. It’s probably still got the violin covers on it.”

“That’s adorable.”

“It was cool at the time,” he said, taking a seat next her. “So, I know we’re not sleeping here for at least another eight hours but are you going to…?” he trailed off a bit and Maka laughed at his modesty.

“She may be my mother, but she doesn’t decide where I sleep. And I mean, sleeping in the top bunk all by myself? I’d get lonely for sure.”

“Only if you want to,” said Soul. Maka leaned into his shoulder, her nose skimming the smooth column of his neck. Instinctively, his arm curved around her, and he held her close to him.

“I wouldn’t want it any other way,” she said. “We _are_ partners after all.”

“That we are.”

They stayed like that for a while, basking in the warm glow of affection until they heard Wes’ voice from down the hall.

“We’re meeting my parents after this? You ready, pigtails?”

“You still going to call me that when we are married?”

“If the name fits,” he offered and she pulled back to shove him playfully.

“I’m not even wearing pigtails.”

“Then why do you look like a kid?’

She rolled her eyes and got up. “Let’s go. We have to meet them or they’re going to think I’m horribly tardy.”

“The fact that you got me to show up at all has made you an angel in their books. I can practically hear them cooing at you the moment you show up.”

“Good to know that you think I’ll be well-received. Don’t know how they’re react to my parents though.”

“There is nothing they could say that would change my mind about us. You’re stuck with me.”

They linked their hands again and headed out. It was going to be a very long day but at least they had each other.


	2. Clothes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maka wears one of Soul’s shirts to bed. Wes notices.

In the end, Soul was right. His parents took to Maka quite quickly, gushing about how sweet she’d sounded over the phone, how beautiful she was in person. They didn’t know what a demon Maka could be when she wanted to, but that was fine. His parents were smitten with the idea that Maka would soon be joining the family. After tactfully dodging questions about wedding dates and other reunions, they had settled down at the dinner table with only the Evans and Spirit for company. Maka’s mother had declined dinner on account of her jetlag, so whatever awkwardness Spirit and his ex-wife could have enacted at dinner was successfully avoided. Instead, he and Maka were able to evade any significant confrontation and, upon excusing themselves for the night, fell into bed together filled with a false sense of security.

It was Soul’s family they were staying with. So, really, Soul should have seen it coming.

The artificial camera sounds were what tipped him off. He’d been having a lovely dream about warm blankets and a fresh pizza when the clicking sounds roused him. He awoke to the morning light illuminating his bedroom and the warmth of his bed being kept by his partner, who was currently snuggled up under his arm and very much asleep. When the clicking continued, he knew it could be two things: that there was some kind of ghost in his room or his brother was there.

Soul squinted in the light and tried to hide himself by cuddling closer to Maka, who was facing the wall and snoring softly. When the noises didn’t cease, he grumbled into her skin.

“Go away, Wes.”

“But this is the perfect opportunity,” he crooned, no doubt snapping a few extra photos. “You’ve always hated posing for pictures.”

“I still do.”

“Then you’ll know why now is such a great chance for me. Besides, you’re a natural, and I’m sure Maka won’t mind having a few photos for her photo album.”

Soul turned awkwardly. His arm was pinned under his meister’s body, but he could still sit up fractionally and glare at his brother, who still stood by the door with his cellphone in hand. “How do you even know about that?”

The last time I came to visit you in Death City, she showed them to me. It’s quite a collection. She was keen on getting your baby photos.”

“You didn’t,” choked Soul, and Wes’ muffled laughter was his answer. “You’re sick.”

“I’m you _brother_ ,” he said. “It’s my job. Honestly, who could pass up a moment like this? And with such a pretty girl?” He took another photo for good measure, the sound of a shutter closing steadily getting on Soul’s nerves.

“It is _way_ too early for this.”

“As much as you like to sleep in, Mother and Father have the entire day planned to get to know your fiancée and her parents. You’re lucky they sent me to wake you both up and not Maka’s mother. That woman kind of scares me.”

“You and me both,” he groaned.

“Mama’s just worried, Soul, you said it yourself,” said Maka softly. She roused slowly and yawned. He echoed the sentiment and when Maka sat up, she was light and sleepy. “Good morning, Wes. Thanks for waking us up.”

“It was my pleasure,” he said, snapping another photo. “May I just say that your pajamas look very cute, if not familiar.”

Soul looked over at what she was wearing and realized that it was an old shirt of his. It hung on her shoulders loosely, even slipping off a bit when she stretched to reveal familiar creamy skin. He flushed as it dawned on him just how it all looked to Wes: Soul, shirtless, with Maka wearing his baggy t-shirt and not much else. Coupled with the bed head they were both sporting?

“Alright, we get it. We’re coming.”

Wes slipped his phone into his pocket with a grin. “That’s what I like to hear. I’ll see you both downstairs for breakfast then. Or maybe lunch considering the time.”

“ _Goodbye_ , Wes.”

The moment the door shut, Soul collapsed against the pillows. Maka rubbed sleep from her eyes and watched her weapon wallow in his embarrassment with a soft smile. “Good morning, Soul.”

“My brother takes photos of me when I’m half-awake and that’s good? I don’t think so.”

“He is right though,” she hummed, running her hands through her hair and trying to manually eliminate a couple knots. “Better him than Mama.”

Soul shuddered at the thought, and felt Maka’s eyes on him again.  “What?”

“Nothing,” she said, her hands leaving her hair and coming down to caress his bare arms. “Just thought you looked really cute this morning.”

“I should be saying that to you,” he said lightly, and stayed still as Maka leaned down to kiss him. She practically rolled onto him, hands taking refuge in his hair while she lay sprawled across his body. Soul set both hands to rest on the small of her back, slipping under the bagginess of the shirt to thumb her skin.

“We should get up.”

“Or we could stay here,” he offered, squeezing her to his chest. “Bet they’re all so busy gossiping about us that we could stay hidden up here for a bit longer.”

“And have Wes walk in on us?” She slipped off of him and rolled her shoulders. He tried not to let his disappointment show. “I don’t think so. Get ready. I hear we’re having a guest today.”

“Guest?”

“Well, yeah. Your mom mentioned it last night. Weren’t you paying attention?”

“No?”

She moved over to her suitcase and pulled out a fresh pair of clothes, one for herself and a set for Soul. 

“Come on.” She smiled at him, as bright as the sun through his window, and he felt lighter somehow. “Let’s go see who it is.”


	3. Habits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater

Soul’s grandmother was an absolute joy to speak to. She had a hoard of knowledge and knew intimate secrets about Soul as a child, most of which she would only repeat once Soul had left the pair of them alone together to fetch something. His parents had stepped out with hers to go look at something down on the beach a few hours previously, leaving Soul and Maka to tend to his grandmother. That was perfectly fine with her, of course. Hearing about Soul’s tendency to sneak snacks into his room or sabotage the tuning on Wes’ violin when he was feeling particularly vindictive had her snickering and laughing. When “Granny” mentioned Soul’s tendencies to drink from the carton, Maka felt like the woman was her favourite Evans yet (minus, Soul, of course). His grandmother’s smiles were so full of maternal warmth that Maka had a hard time feeling awkward at all in front of her.

“I feel,” she was saying as their shared laughter quieted, “like it’s good to know that some things about Soul never change.”

Maka smiled. “Yeah, he’s stubborn sometimes.”

The old woman hummed and placed a thin hand on Maka’s knee. “Still, even if some parts of him haven’t changed, there still bits of him that have; and for the better. I think you’re really responsible for that, though.”

“He’s grown a lot since I met him,” said Maka affectionately, “and he worked hard to be the person he is today,” then, slyly, “but something that will never change is his worry wart attitude. No matter how much of a ‘cool guy’ he says he is, Soul worries a bit too much. You should have seen him just before we boarded the plane.”

“Does he still pull at his hair? He used to do that a great deal before performing.”

“No, not really,” Maka mused. “He just sort of glares now. At inanimate objects or at me. He gets frustrated sometimes, especially if he thinks something bad will happen to me.”

“His worrying is always strongest when it’s about the people he cares about,” she said, nodding slowly before leaning it eagerly. “Does he still have that bone-deep loyalty?” Maka grinned. “I should hope so, you know, otherwise I’d encourage you to find another man.

Maka stifled a giggle. “Thank you?”

Soul returned to the room and passed his grandmother a fresh cup of coffee. “Are you guys still gossiping about me?”

“Maybe?” offered Maka, to which his grandmother just laughed, squeezing Maka’s leg and leaning into her shoulder.

“What did you expect?” she said lightly. “You stopped talking to us for almost ten years! Of course, I’m going to talk about you with the person whose been there for you this whole time.” Soul had the decency to look guilty and that seemed to serve as an apology enough for his grandmother. “So,” she began, “if I might say, Maka, your parents are quite young.”

“Granny, please,” began Soul. Maka could feel his cresting anxiety leak into his soul wavelength. His grandmother persisted, undeterred.

“As I was saying, Maka, your parents are young. Younger than I expected, and to have raised such a sensible daughter? They must be extraordinary.”

“They were pretty young when they had me, yes.” Maka felt Soul’s hand press against her back, his wavelength a mix of apologies and worry. Maka sent back reassurance. When she tried to read the woman’s wavelength, the only thing she could pick up was sympathy and a healthy does of curiousity in the mix.

“But since their split, they haven’t really spoken?”                                                         

“Yes.”

The woman nodded slowly before her brown eyes grew playful. “What do they do for fun then?”

“For fun?”

“Well they spend all that time away from one another, I’d assume they have some hobbies of their own, right? Besides, I think my son and his wife are eager to find something in common with your parents. So, what do they do for fun?”

“My father drinks and enjoys dancing; maybe a little too much,” said Maka. “He used to read a lot before doing…other stuff.”

“I see,” she said, although Maka doubted that the other woman really did _see_. Spirit had been curiously careful with his flirting habits while they were with Soul’s family, something that Maka truly appreciated. Maka wondered if that was more her mother’s influence or just his desire to appease in-laws. “And your mother?”

There was hesitation there she didn’t even expect from herself. Kamiko Sato was clever, cunning, and quick on her feet. Where Spirit had courage and fire, Kami was tailored actions and well-made back-up plans. She was structured and calming while Spirit acted fiercely and on emotion. But what did Kami enjoy? She used to enjoy the simple company of her family. But now?

“Travelling,” Maka said finally. “She likes to travel.”

“That sounds very adventurous.”

“She was always interested in other countries. It was one of the things that drew her to America; all these different places that seemed like different planets all on the same continent. My father once told me that when they went on missions, she would spend hours sightseeing and learning about the culture. It was one of those rare things that she actually seemed excited by.”

“It’s too bad she couldn’t stay closer to home,” mused the old woman, “but then I think the same thing of Soul, and he’s grown into such a good man by being away from all of us. Although,” she added, eyeing her grandson keenly, “it wouldn’t have killed him to write.”

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” Soul said. Maka tried to root around for how he felt, and could sense that while he was annoyed that the focus was back on him, there was still an unmistakable relief that they were off the topic of Maka’s parents. Her sadness probably had him in a similar state of distress. She appreciated the concern, and allowed contentment to resonate between them. Soul dropped his chin onto Maka’s shoulder, his spare hand playing with Maka’s left hand while they watched his grandmother take a drink. Soul was much more open to being affectionate in front of the old woman, likely because he was so much more comfortable.

The two Evans talked about music, and made quips about Wes’ recent concert or Soul’s own pieces. He admitted that he was still composing, albeit slowly due to his Death Scythe duties. Maka let herself lean into Soul’s chest and relax as her partner spoke about a million things that both mattered and didn’t with a woman he so clearly cared for and had missed. He looked happy,  _felt_ happy, and Maka was filled with pride.

Coming here was a good idea.


	4. You Make Me Strong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater.

Coming here was a bad idea.

He knew it in his bones, could feel it the subtle shaking of his soul and the sudden wave of pain he was assaulted with. Maybe he just knew her too well. He wasn’t a meister that could sense the souls of others, but he also wasn’t a fool, and if there was any wavelength he knew, it was Maka’s. Death Scythe perks strengthened whatever measly soul perception he had, but of all the skills he’d inherited, being eternally attuned to her was a gift he would never take for granted.

So the instant her mood went to shit, he felt it.

The emotion he felt was stronger than he thought it was going to be, and when Maka’s distress resonated to him he shot up from his seat so abruptly that his grandmother had to jump away from him.

“Soul,” she began, her hands fluttering up from her lap to try and stop him, “what’s wrong?”

“It’s Maka,” he said vaguely. His mind was in a kind of haze and his soul zeroed in on her wavelength, which hummed uncomfortably between them. He tried to follow and amplify it to sense where it was coming from. What could she have been doing to make her feel so hurt? More importantly, was she going to be okay?

“What about Maka?”

Soul squeezed his grandmother’s shoulder as he passed her. “I’m going to be right back,” he said, following the pull of his meister’s soul, a soul that was calling out to him now. There was panic mixing in with the hurt he was feeling, and his own worry had him picking up the pace and practically careening into the kitchen where Maka stood across from his mother. The moment Kamiko’s eyes met his, her scowl became more pronounced. He frowned back at her and came to stand behind Maka, a hand going to the clenched fist at her side. He eased it open, slipping his fingers between hers and trying to send his concern through their wavelength, eager to appease the aching sadness she was emitting.

Maka didn’t look at him and that was likely the most telling thing she could have done. From here, Soul had two options. The first, would be to confront her mother about it. Maka wouldn’t like it, and his parents would hate to have him start a fight with their guest the second night there, but he would be able to figure out just what was going on and find it from the source. There was not a doubt in his mind that Kamiko Sato had said something to her daughter to make her upset, and Maka was the strongest woman he knew. If she was upset, then whatever the topic of conversation was had to have been disturbing enough to Maka. The second option, would be to take Maka away, to just leave. He didn’t want her upset or in pain or burdened by words that her mother had offered her. They could run if she wanted.

He nudged his soul against Maka’s, empathetic and cautious, and this time she responded by pressing back. It was light, as if her soul was skimming his like a kiss.

“Maka,” her mother said sharply, and Maka’s soul retreated from him a bit.

“Is there a problem?” asked Soul suddenly as he leaned, uncharacteristically, towards the confrontation option in his head. Maka would reproach him for it, certainly, but he was gradually finding less and less patience with this woman Maka called her mother. There as something brewing in that woman; he just didn’t know what.

When she responded, it wasn’t in English, and Soul, instead of feeling affronted, felt more concern for his meister who flinched at the words.

“How could you say that?” Maka said softly but every coiled muscle revealed her quiet anger. Soul let his soul reach out to her again, gently this time, soothing with every bit of reassurance and support he could give her. When Kami spoke in her native tongue again, it shifted something inside his meister. Her soul enveloped him with light, and after years of practice, they slipped into easy resonance. Their connection hummed this time with hurt, yes, but also with an ardent desire to defend and protect. The source of Maka’s discomfort was unclear but this time he felt her resolve sit firm in her soul. She had made up her mind.

Maka’s Japanese was less biting than her mother’s but her words stiffened the woman anyway. Kami nodded, stepped out of the room, and it was then that Maka looked up at Soul, squeezing his hand tightly. “We’ll talk later okay.”

“Maka-“

She shook her head and swallowed hard. “I should have talked to her before coming like I did Papa. I didn’t think…”

“Was it…?” Some how he knew the topic of conversation had been him. He’d never gotten the feeling that Kami approved of Maka marrying her weapon like her mother had done, but he’d also never anticipated the woman confronting Maka at her future in-laws house either.

She smiled and that was confirmation enough.

“You’re going to talk to her right now, aren’t you?” Soul asked.

“Papa’s distracting your parents. Now’s as good a time as any.”

“Do you want me to stay with you?” he offered and she shook her head. Her hand came up to cup his cheek and kissed him lightly. He leaned into it, eager to please, wanting to make her happy, to drive the sadness out of their wavelength.

“I can do this, and you need to be with your grandmother,” Maka breathed against his mouth and they remained close until she moved to where her mother had stood. He missed her warmth already. “Besides, you’re always with me.” Their wavelength ran happy for a moment, rushing thick with love, and Soul let her go, watching the pale swish of her dress disappear into the shadows of the next room.


	5. In Battle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater.

 

It was two against four. The member that had defected to the other side was someone Soul should have known, intrinsically, that he couldn't trust. Regardless, he stood with his partner, the weapon in her hand glinting under the sun. The beach side was quiet, and though Soul awaited the inevitable ambush to come, he knew that they had to prepare something, especially if they were to win.

"So, what's the plan?" he asked, watching as she tucked hair behind her ease. Kamiko peeked around the corner of the cottage, years of meister training helping her formulate what was sure to be a master plan.

"They'll likely come from either side. We could take the roof," she said, eyes hidden behind her sunglasses, "although I don't know if you could climb it."

"The DWMA prepares us for almost any battle scenario," said Soul, looking up the side of the small unused surfboard shack that sat, beach side, near the Evans' summer villa, "so ideally, I can try to scale this building."

"Sounds like a plan. With an aerial view, we'll have an advantage. How's that?"

"Solid." Soul grinned. "You would know the best route to victory."

With a single leap and climbing what looked to be a completely flat surface, she was sitting on the cottage ceiling. "I try," replied Kamiko, voice soft and conspiratorial. She pumped her water gun and grinned down at him. "Are you coming then?" Not for the first time on the trip, Soul found himself in awe of the woman Maka called her mother. "Come on," she hissed. Soul threw his gun up to her and looked for good footholds. He was maybe halfway up the wall when he became surrounded by the opposing team made up of Maka, Spirit, his own mother and his traitorous brother. They were formidable; truly a force to be reckoned with. Maka's eyes seemed bright and playful when she saw him, and she raised her water gun alongside her team mates to deliver the final blow.

However, Kamiko hadn't been close friends with Azusa for nothing. She'd learned a fair bit about mapping and strategic battle with the Death Scythe, and Soul watched in awe as Kamiko Sato proceeded to shoot all four of their competitors with rapid fire water. They had all been so focussed on Soul that they'd neglected to wonder where she could have been.

"And that's how we take down opponents who outnumber us," she said triumphantly.

"Damn," said Soul, dropping to the ground and watching Kamiko do the same, passing him his water gun with a proud grin on her face. He still wasn't sure why exactly the woman was being more than civil to him now but he certainly wasn't going to complain. Whatever conversation Maka had had with Kami two nights prior had done wonders to her mother's behaviour. Where she would have glared, she now observed with quiet calculating eyes, something that kind of set Soul on edge in the beginning. Now, he was seeing that she was almost always like that about everything. Clearly, it much have been Spirit who smoozed his way through galas and dignitary meetings. Kami seemed to be very much about business, unless the topic was  _just_  right.

Water fights seemed to be sitting in that sweet spot and Soul was happier for it. After all, it had led to their victory.

Maka had reassured him that her mother had Maka's best interests at heart and that he behaviour was that of a woman who refused to hand her daughter into the arms of someone she deemed incapable.

Soul hugged and moved over to help Maka to her feet. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. She got me right in the chest!" He glanced down quickly and saw how the shot of water bloomed against her shirt, outlining the swimsuit underneath.

"It was a good round considering that Wes left us for dead."

"For the record, I had faith that you would win regardless," inputted Wes but Soul just rolled his eyes.

"Which is why you left us on our own."

"You  _won_ , Soul," laughed Wes. "Doesn't that count for something?"

"You're right," said Kamiko, clapping a hand on Soul's shoulder. "We did it on our own. Soul is quite proficient in battle."

"Than you, ma'am," said Soul, surprised at the praise.

"I could have told you that, Mama," said Maka, her hand falling into Soul's effortlessly.

"Yes, well it's always best to see it with my own eyes," said Kamiko quickly, and if Soul didn't know better, he'd say that she seemed almost embarrassed.

"To dinner then?" said Maka, tugging Soul towards the barbecue that his father had worked to prepare. His own parents had been on their own best behaviour, which was helpful. He'd felt relatively good about having Maka at their summer home for the while. The last few days had been difficult, but things finally started to be looking up properly. Her mother was being almost kind, Spirit hadn't fooled around (although there were no young women around the summer villa to fool around with) and his grandmother was spritely and jovial. His parents had yet to mention anything controversial. Wes was being his annoying self.

All seemed to be just as it ought to be.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still deciding if I want to do more with this. Not sure yet...
> 
> Thanks for reading. Feel free to drop questions, comments or concerns into the box below.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the delay. Exams have me fcked up. Let's hope I get the rest of these done on time, huh?  
> Also, in case y'all weren't sure, they're engaged, just not married yet. That's why their fams are meeting.


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